The Final Battle
by Eleena Thea
Summary: Have you ever speculated on what end or great hero might take. Well, here is my ending to book seven. I hope you like it.


A/N: Here is the end to the seventh book, the way I foresee it.

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K Rowling and I will not be making money off her stuff.

Harry woke up to a searing pain in his scar. This was a pain he had not felt before. A new emotion was being explored. It was a feeling of readiness. Harry new that today was the day. He was ready for him. Harry had Voldemort at a disadvantage though. Voldemort didn't understand the outcome. He didn't know that as he killed Harry he would be killing himself as well. This is what kept Harry going. This is what kept him sane. He got dressed and went down to the common room. Hermione was sitting in Ron's lap with Ginny by their side. He approached them, knowing that he would never see their smiling faces again. He was doing this for them. So that they might live a happy life free from Voldemort. 

He walked over and kissed Ginny on the forehead. She was beautiful. He glanced over at Hermione, the only one he had ever told his secret to and said, "It's time." Hermione began to cry. The others wore a look of confusion on their faces. What did he mean, It's time. Hermione stood up and hugged him. She then ran up to her dormitory. Ginny stood to follow but Harry grabbed her by her arm.

"Ginny, I love you. You know that, right?"

"Of course Harry. I love you too. What is wrong." Ginny looked worried. He bent down and kissed her passionately. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes so he pulled away.

"You'd better go and check on Hermione then." He hugged her and she left. Ron was the only person left near Harry.

"What is it, mate?"

"Ask Hermione, sometime. Listen Ron, I have to go. I hope you understand. But before you leave I need to tell you that you are my best friend in the whole world."

"Your mine, Harry."

"Take care of yourself, Ron." Harry turned around and headed toward the portrait hole.

"I'll see you later then." Ron called out from behind.

"Yeah, later."

Harry walked through the halls of Hogwarts, watching the daily proceedings of the students. They all had no idea that they were about to be ridded of Voldemort in a few hours. Harry hoped it stayed that way, until he had gone. He climbed the stairs. He knew where he needed to go. He had had that dream so many times. He was to go down the fifth floor corridor until he reached the portrait of the founders of Hogwarts. There he was to touch Godric Gryfindor. It was a port key. It would take him to his tomb. The place where he was to die. The place where he would kill Voldemort. 

He had finally reached the portrait. He looked at the founders. He would miss Hogwarts. He reached up his hand and there was a pulling sensation in his stomach. He was slicing through the air for what seemed like eternity. He closed his eyes. When he opened them he was on the floor in that room in the Department of Mysteries. That room that had haunted his dreams for two years. That room where Sirius had died. He stood up and pulled out his wand. He was ready. Ready for the pain and torture. He was ready to die.

He looked around the room. The ledge around the ceiling was covered with Death Eaters, standing and sitting. They were waiting. Waiting for their master to come and fulfill his destiny. There was a popping noise and Voldemort appeared before him.

"So Potter. You have finally arrived."

"Yes. I suppose I have."

"Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To die."

"Yes, are you?" Harry said defiantly. The arrogance in his voice reminded him a lot of his father. There was that cold, hard laugh again. The laugh that sent shivers up his spine. Voldemort lifted up his wand and called out, "Expelliarmus." Harry's wand went flying from his hands. He let it. It was better to get this over quickly. Voldemort then shouted out, "Crucio." There was that felling. Like a thousand knives were slicing through Harry's body. He fell to his knees. He looked up at Voldemort and smiled. He was hit with the spell again. So this is how it was going to be. He was going to be tortured to death. Wonderful.

Harry had been hit with that spell so many times he had lost count. He couldn't even feel it any more. He was thinking about his friends, Cedric, Sirius and his parents. He could see his mother know. That beautiful red head in Snape's Pensieve. He remembered that night. That night in the cemetery. He remembered her telling him how to save himself. He remembered how she had died, saving him. He knew that she had loved him. Love! That was his weapon. His power over Voldemort. He was not going to let Voldemort defeat him. He was going to defeat Voldemort.

He stood up. The look on those red eyes was unforgettable. It was fear and panic and hatred, all swirling around a dark center. Harry again smiled. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off. 

"I have something you don't Voldemort."

"What power could you have that Lord Voldemort could not, Potter?"

"Love. I have love and compassion. Something you have never felt. Ever."

There was laughter from around the room. Harry didn't care. _Laugh if you want, _he thought. He could feel the warmth running trough his body to the tips of his fingers. His hands. That was the key. He lunged at Voldemort and grabbed his arm. Voldemort screeched in pain. Harry didn't know how he was doing it but he was passing the warmth to Voldemort. Voldemort's skin began to redden. He couldn't take the warmth it was killing him. Yes, killing him. 

"This is for all the people you have killed. They all had something you could never have. Love. So I will pass my love to you Voldemort. Try some." Voldemort was now on his knees. Harry was too weak to hold on any more. He knew he had given off enough to do them both in. He let go and backed away. 

Harry watched as Voldemort's body hit the ground. He never even saw the flash of green light protruding from his enemy's wand. His sight was transfixed on those red eyes. The fear and defeat in those cold, red eyes.   
The pain was terrible. Worse then anything he had ever felt. But it left his body quickly. He could feel the light swarming over him as he passed through a ragged, old veil. He closed his eyes to soak up the light. When he opened them he was standing before his mother, father and Sirius. Sirius approached him and hugged him. Then his father came up and whispered in his ear, "Welcome home, son." Then there was his mother. She stood there; teary eyed, watching his every movement. He ran to her and threw his arms around her. They cried in each other's arms. Finally, she took his head in her hands and kissed him on his scar.


End file.
